


Somewhere Deeper

by CommanderTeatime



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e11 Lost Souls, Flashbacks, M/M, Multi, Past Relationship(s), Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-26
Updated: 2019-02-26
Packaged: 2019-11-05 20:57:06
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 834
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17926214
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CommanderTeatime/pseuds/CommanderTeatime
Summary: The stench of gunpowder, the benevolent smile of the stone Buddha above him, a name he'll never hear again.This time he doesn't run.





	Somewhere Deeper

**Author's Note:**

> Crawling out of my grave and I've been doin' just fine (just kidding, I should be working on Greek).

“You okay?”

Magnus blinks and the wall is no longer interesting, but the Shadowhunter in front of him is. Alec sets down a mug of tea in front of him and moves to the other side to sit down. 

“Did you microwave this?” Magnus asks, lets his his fingers curl around the warm of the cup. 

Alec’s sock covered feet find his under the table. “You’re answering a question with a question.” 

“That’s a yes.” Magnus put his foot over Alec’s. “We have a kettle, Alexander, we aren’t barbarians.” It’s a teasing conversation they’ve had before that always ends with a kiss. He tugs at the string attached to the tea bag, watching the water slowly darken. 

“Magnus.” 

He looks up to his Shadowhunter, always so worried, always thinking. “I’m okay.” Magnus hears himself say quietly, “It’s still a lot to get used to.”

Alec takes one of his hands away from the mug and holds it, he links their fingers together, moves his thumb back and forth in a way that’s comforting. He sighs and takes a small sip of the tea. He doesn’t know what to say and even if he did know, he doesn’t know how to say it. He wants to slip out of it, to slip under the covers and feel Alec against him, he wants to lay there and listen to Alec breathe. He needs to know that at the very least, one of his nightmares won’t haunt him.

The silence presses him to go on and Alec’s foot presses against him a little harder, impatient as always. Magnus looks at the mug of tea in his hand and thinks about telling Alec everything, about letting it all ooze out of him like an abcess. 

It’s all there, just waiting for him to skim his fingers across the surface of his mind, to dip into all of the ruins that Iris has conjured up for him.

 

_ George smiles softly, pain of soon separation in his eyes, his hands rough with callouses. He’s looking at them, turning George’s hands over in his just one last time, stretching his fingers against the man’s palms. Magnus closes his eyes and feels them slip out of his soft grasp.  _

 

_ Ocean breezes make sandalwood smell so much softer, sweeter. Magnus is holding his mother’s hand, jumping up and down for a reason he can’t remember. The market has always been theirs, a shared second away from home, away from him. He dawdles, his legs too short to keep up with hers anyway. She lets him run and when he goes too far, he hears a name he will never be called again.  _

 

_ Alec’s hands are in his hair, fingernails gentle against his scalp. It startles him just how careful Alec is being, so scared that he’s going to do something wrong and break him. Magnus leans down to nip gently at the dark rune on the side of Alec’s neck as his hands move tracing down the bare skin of Magnus’s back. He feels Alec’s fingernails, not so gentle this time and smiles. This is how it should always be, he thinks. _

 

Alec’s hands are on his. 

“I’m sorry.” Magnus whispers, looking up at him, blinking the tears out of his eyes. “I…” he can’t manage to say anything else. His hands are shaking again. 

“Don’t apologize.”

 

_ The needle is on the record, but the music stopped long before they did. His fingers are in her hair, it smells like she’s covered him and the sheets in her perfume. The soft blur of a few martinis and one too many dances to the sounds of Duke Ellington and Glenn Miller. He still hasn’t tired her out, he can hear her humming softly against him, a tune just out of reach.  _

 

_ Alec’s office still makes Magnus anxious, like he’s walking into an interrogation or amending his contract as High Warlock. The room is quiet and almost gloomy in the warm lighting of the desk lamp as Alec looks at whatever is on the screen in his hand. He takes the second to truly see Alec, the gentle way he exists purely as himself and for himself. Alec reaches for his phone and looks up to Magnus, a smile wide on his face as he gets to his feet.  _

 

_ Ragnor is walking towards him, brisk and nearly hostile, but Magnus can see the smile in his eyes no matter how hard he tries to scowl it away. He hurries just a little and nearly throws himself into Ragnor’s arms, holding his little cabbage tight before telling him all about how he’s done it, the burning success of magic still warm against his fingertips. He pulls away and with a quick gesture, the metallic puddle opens before them, wind pulling from all directions, drowning out the pride in Ragnor’s voice.  _

 

Falling back into himself is like sinking into warm water and breathing shakes him almost to his core. 

He finds himself nodding. Alec squeezes his hand.


End file.
